On The Wings Of A Raven
by AmberH84
Summary: The Genetic Opera left Shilo broken. The Graverobber was the one to find the pieces. Will he be able to help her put herself back together? Crappy summary. Rated T for now, lots of fluffies and smut to follow.


Shilo groaned and stretched, waking from her deathly slumber. Rubbing her eyes and looking around, she took in the familiar sight of her mother's tomb. She vaguely remembered stumbling her way back here, after the opera the previous night... Visions of the blood bath she'd been witness and participant to flashed behind her eyes, and she barely had time to get to her knees before violently heaving. When her stomach was empty and her stomach stopped convulsing, she fell back and hugged her knees tightly to her chest, letting the tears begin to flow, quickly growing to sobs that shook her frame. She cried until her eyes stung, dry and bloodshot. She rocked herself back and forth absently, before falling asleep once more.

* * *

The Graverobber whistled to himself as he made his way through the graveyard. After all the commotion at the opera, the GeneCops had more important things to than hunt for graverobbers tonight. _Perfect time to harvest, _he thought to himself. He'd already collected half a dozen vials, and he'd probably have time to gather a dozen more before the night was through. _Pity I can't collect from Rotti's skull,_ he thought with a smirk. He thought of the other two that had died as well; Blind Mag, the beautiful soprano, and Nathan Wallace, the Repo Man. A bitter tasted filled his mouth. _Good Riddance to disgusting rubbish._ His mind flashed then to the orphaned daughter of the GeneCo mercenary; Shilo, wasn't it? He'd ran into her a few times, but he hadn't known what her father did then; apparently, neither had she.

The Graverobber wondered what would happen to her. If the gossip was to be believed, she'd never been out of her house before this night. Sheltered, raised without a mother, both mind and body poisoned by her father. He realized that he'd probably been the first unfamiliar face she'd ever seen. Maybe that's why she'd trusted him, let him lead her. Of course, she hadn't had much choice. And he _was _the one who'd gotten her in trouble in the first place. Was that why he'd helped her? After all, what was she to her? Not a client; not a friend; not a lover. That thought caused some rather interesting images to pop into his head; there was definitely something attractive about her. Not in the overtly sexual way, like Amber Sweet, or the other scalpel sluts. There was an innocence to her, a purity, which he hadn't seen in longer than he could remember.

Looking around, he noticed he was standing before Marni Wallace's tomb. His curiosity piqued, he looked around before giving the door a tentative push. Though the door was heavy, it opened fairly easily, and he slipped inside, closing it quietly behind him. His eyes fell first on the portrait on the opposite wall, presumably of Marni. The resemblance between her and her daughter really was striking. He felt uncomfortable suddenly, the dead woman's eyes boring into him. He looked away, his eyes settling first on the stone coffin, then on the huddled frame in the corner. Recognition settled in, and he rushed to kneel beside the girl. He moved to touch her, his hand hovering, hesitating, before gently brushing the hair away from her face. He noticed with some surprise, that it was a wig; he was distracted from his curiosity, however, when the girl shook violently, waking with a start. Her eyes darted around, before meeting the Graverobber's stare.

"What do you want?" Distrust filled Shilo's eyes, and the Graverobber couldn't help feeling sorry for her.

"Nothing. Just wanted to make sure you're okay." He leaned back, sitting on his haunches, eying her. _She doesn't look okay..._

"I'm f- I'll be fine," the girl corrected herself. No sense in lying, especially not to someone like him. She could see he didn't believe her, and she did her best to stand, getting halfway upright before faltering. She would've fallen, if he hadn't been so quick to catch her, sweeping her off her feet and into his arms. She wanted to be annoyed, or shocked, or anything but grateful; no sense lying to herself, either, she supposed.

"Uh-huh, you look fine. Let me get you someplace safe. I'm assuming there's a way inside from here?" Shilo started to nod, but stopped herself.

"Yes, but... well... I can't..." Not sure what else to say, she looked away, embarrassed. The Graverobber understood, and headed out of the tomb. Making sure the way was clear, he picked his way through the graveyard, to the relative safety of the streets, before setting her down.

"You think you can manage to walk for a bit?" Shilo nodded, looking around and keeping close. "Good, follow me." He took off at a quick pace, and Shilo had to jog to keep up; his legs were far longer than hers, and it took her three steps to cover one of his. After a while, he noticed this, and slowed his pace somewhat. Just when she was about to ask where he was taking her, he jumped up onto a fire escape, climbing the ladder with ease. When he reached the balcony above, he looked down to see her still standing on the ground below, and rolled his eyes.

"Come on kid, you don't wanna stay down there all night." He flashed her a grin, and she hesitantly grabbed the iron bars. After pulling herself up the ladder, she followed him up the metal stairs, past floor after floor, until they reached an open window. The Graverobber climbed inside, and held out a hand to her, flashing her his charming smile again. She took it, and let him help her inside. After dusting herself off, she looked around.

The apartment wasn't glamorous, but it looked comfortable. It was a single room, with a door that led to a bathroom in one corner, and another door (probably to the hallway) at the other end. There was a small stove and a refrigerator on one side of the room, and a small table; a couch and a small television sat at the other end. The remaining corner of the apartment was partitioned off by a somewhat sheer curtain hung from the ceiling; Shilo could see the outline of a bed and small nightstand through the fabric.

"It's lovely," she said, half to herself, and looked over when she heard the Graverobber laugh dismissively.

"It suits me well enough, for all the time I spend here. You hungry?" Shilo was about to protest, when her stomach growled loudly. She looked down, sheepishly, causing the man before her to chuckle. "I'll fix us some grub. There's a shower in there if you want," he said, motioning to the bathroom. "There's towels and soap, and I'll try to find you some clothes."

Shilo nodded, the thought of a hot shower making her almost groan with relief. She could feel the dried blood on her skin and hair, and realized what a mess she must look. As she walked past him, she stopped, placing a tiny hand on his arm.

"Thank you, er... I'm sorry. I never asked your name."

"I don't have one; not anymore. Folks just call me Graverobber. Kind of a mouthful, but I don't get a lot of people calling me by name anyway." Shilo looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Can I call you something else? A nickname?" The man thought as well. He'd never had much of a nickname, or at least nothing he'd want to hear coming from this little girl's lips.

"If you come up with one, let me know. I'll tell you if I like it." Smiling, he turned back to the fridge, listening to the girls' steps towards the bathroom. He laughed to himself as he pulled out ingredients. He wasn't sure why he was helping this girl, but she amused him. And he couldn't just leave her in that tomb to die; he wasn't that heartless, not yet anyway. So, he would help her out for a bit, make sure she'd survive, and then let her go. He wasn't about to keep her locked up like her father had; there was no way he'd ever become that cruel.

* * *

Shilo shuddered as she stripped the filthy dress off, letting it fall to the floor, where it was soon joined by her girly undergarments. As she waited for the water to warm up, she looked at herself in the slightly grimy mirror. She was petite, but curvy in the right places. She'd been locked up her whole life, but she'd been allowed to watch television, and read books, so she wasn't completely naive. She knew what passed for attractive. Shilo was no Amber sweet, but she knew she wasn't hideous (like Miss Sweet was after the opera). Her smile fell, however, as she slowly removed her wig. _How could anyone find_ this _attractive_, she thought, her mood souring. _How could_ he_ find this attractive?_

Shaking her head to clear the dark thoughts, she tested the water, and stepped into the shower. She moaned in pleasure as the hot water rained over her, washing away the blood and gore and filth that clung to her. She took the soap and scrubbed herself clean, then scrubbed some more, scrubbing until her skin stung. She then washed out her wig, removing as much of the blood as she could from the strands. Afterwards, she stood under the water's spray, leaning her head against the cool tile, letting the heat work the kinks from the muscles in her back. She stood there until the water began to cool off, and even then she stood a few minutes longer. When she began to shiver, she finally shut off the water and stepped out, drying herself with a surprisingly soft towel. She dried her wig off as much as possible before putting it on, and wrapping the towel around her, she stepped out into the room.

She looked up at the Graverobber, who was just setting two full plates of food on the small table. They locked eyes, both frozen in that moment, before he cleared his throat and straightened. She thought for a moment, before speaking.

"Raven." He raised an eyebrow, and Shilo clarified. "Your nickname. I was thinking raven. You blend into the night, you're always around death, and well..." Shilo shifted nervously, looking away. "Your lips. They're black. Like a raven." She heard his footsteps approaching her, but couldn't make herself look up. Only when a finger lifted her chin did she meet his eyes.

"I like it." He was smiling smugly, but there was something strange about it. It was as if he was hiding something. Shilo's brow furrowed as she tried to read him, but he quickly turned away. "There's some clothes on the bed in there; go ahead and change, the food needs to cool for a minute anyway." He busied himself with getting out a pair of glasses and something to drink, but watched her out of the corner of his eye. She made her way across the room and behind the sheet; he could plainly see her silhouette, but chose to look away.

He didn't want to admit how hot she'd looked, standing there in just a towel, drops of water rolling down her chest. He also didn't want to admit the feeling in the pit of his stomach as she explained her nickname for him. He had to admit, it was fitting. And the way she'd blushed and turned away before mentioning his lips had been both innocently sweet and highly erotic.

A minute or two later, Shilo stepped back into the makeshift dining room. She was wearing a pair of his jeans, which even when belted hung far too low on her hips for his comfort; and a black tank top that somehow seemed too small for her. The look was so different from how he was used to seeing her; she looked almost like she belonged beside him. _That's not what I meant... on the street. I meant like she belonged on the street. No, not like that either!_ Raven almost growled at himself for the way his mind was going from one wrong path to another. He realized he hadn't said anything yet, and Shilo was looking to him expectantly. _Say something, dumbass!_

"Nice. Very nice. Did you look in the mirror over there?" The girl nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Yea. I actually kinda like it. More than all the lace and frills I used to wear." Raven just nodded, his thoughts escaping him again.

"Right, well dinner's ready. Have a seat." He held out a chair for her, pushing her in before seating himself. The two ate in relative silence. Raven stole glances at Shilo every so often, but her face was blank. When they were finished, he stood, taking both plates over to the sink to wash them. When he came back, Shilo was still seated at the table.

"Raven?"

"Yea kid?"

"Thank you. You don't have to be so nice; I know I'm probably keeping you from your... work." Raven almost laughed, but suppressed the urge.

"It's no problem, really. I can take a night off." Shilo shook her head, and Raven sat beside her.

"But, I don't have any way of paying you back. And, and I don't want to be in your way." Something was wrong. Concern filled his face, and he leaned closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. She jumped a little, and turned to face him.

"Hey. No one said anything about repayment. Look, you don't have to stay if you don't want to. But you don't have to leave, either. It's up to you. I'm not gonna kick you to the curb, especially knowing that you don't have anywhere to go." When he said that, something in Shilo's face broke, and he could see the tears welling up in her eyes. "Oh, god, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- dammit. Here, come here." He lifted her into his arms again, and carried her over to the bed, laying her down just as the sobs began. He laid down beside her, and let her curl up against him, rubbing her back.

After about a half hour, her sobs began to quiet, and after another twenty minutes, she was asleep. Raven sighed heavily. _What have I gotten myself into?_ He looked down at her small body, her chest rising and falling, her arm draped over his waist. She looked so fragile. So... _beautiful. Go on, say it._ Sighing again, he carefully extracted himself from under her, and pulled the blankets over her. He leaned down, brushing the hair away from her face, before gently kissing her forehead. She murmured something in her sleep, something that sounded like 'Raven'. He smiled, lingering over her for a moment more, before going to lay down on the couch.


End file.
